


No Masters or Kings When the Ritual Begins

by Cinderscream



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, But mostly fluff, M/M, gay yearning bc that's just who snaf and gene are, gene is his guard, snafu is a prince, this could be a small piece from a bigger story but i like it as is, this is self indulgent as hell but that's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21966049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinderscream/pseuds/Cinderscream
Summary: Merriel and Eugene take a moment for themselves
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	No Masters or Kings When the Ritual Begins

**Author's Note:**

> a crimmis friend for my wonderful friend lau that's hopefully enjoyable! I had fun writing it at least skldghghh

Sometimes, Eugene wonders if maybe the prince had been taken away a long time ago and replaced by a changeling because sometimes, the boy he’s supposed to be guarding seems more wild creature than prim prince. He thinks that now, trailing after him through thick underbrush, his boots crunching over stray branches and pinecones, above them, in a sky shrouded by swathes of emerald leaves, he hears the call of wild fowl, taunting. The prince is somewhere ahead of him past shafts of golden light that peaks through the canopy, and Eugene has to trace him by the chime of his laughter because somehow, he’s perfected the art of a quiet footfall despite all the time he’s spent cooped up in the castle. 

Eugene knows what he wants to say, “ _ my prince, it’s not safe, this is not advisable _ .”

But he knows how the prince will respond:  _ you’re never so cautious with the other guards.  _ And Eugene will grumble that the  _ other guards  _ aren’t the crown prince he’s supposed to be protecting and the prince will become offended, thinking that Eugene thinks him helpless and they’ll argue-

He comes to an abrupt stop at the edge of where the forest stops. Before him, sunlight spills into a clearing he didn’t know existed- a feat, considering how much time Eugene spends in the forest on his own when he’s not training or-

“Gene! Gene c’mon!”

Babysitting. 

He’s sprawled out in the center of the clearing, shirt having been shucked off at some point so the sun gleams on his bronze skin, freckles gracing slight shoulders. His chin is tucked on top of his hands, large eyes the color of the tall, dewy green grass watching him from across the field from under heavy lids, long dark lashes sweeping across high cheeks. Eugene swallows, tearing his gaze away from the prince to the pretty flowers around him, ignoring the uptick of his heartbeat. 

“Is this what you wanted to show me, my prince?” he asks, prim, polite, proper as he’s supposed to be, keeping his eyes averted (not tracing the movement of the prince’s tongue across his bottom lip). 

The prince frowns, rolling onto his back to stare up at the sky, eyes reflecting blue instead of green now, feathered clouds catching his attention. His hands rest intertwined on his flat belly. 

“We’re alone, Gene”, he says, his voice, deep and rich, heavy with disappointment, Eugene’s name slurred out like a point. 

Eugene looks at him.  _ Really _ looks at him. At the pale gray shirt tossed into the grass and the worn trousers that are scuffed at the knees, old boots sitting at the edge of the clearing. He’s not wearing his golden circlet with the encrusted sapphires and rubies, nor his silken navy cloak, curls wild and untamed around his boyish face like a dark halo. There is no tall proud posture or confident smirk tilting his lips, and it occurs to Eugene that he’s the one looking  _ down _ on his prince while he looks up at him, expression open and searching for something he can’t seem to find on Eugene’s face. 

He loosens his shoulders, dropping the sword on his hip to the side, frosty politeness melting away in the warmth of the sun. He lays down next to his prince, shoulders brushing, one hand boldly reaching out to clasp the other, pale skin contrasting with brown. 

“It’s lovely, Merriel. Thank you”, Eugene relents, a small smile curling on his face and he feels more than hears the vibration of Merriel’s quiet laugh. 

There’s no walls between them here, the dull gray of the brick castle walls replaced by the shades of earthy browns and greens of the forest, interspersed with golds and blues, natural jewels of color, and there are no eyes to watch their every movement, to catch the minute slips of their masks. Here, they don’t have to be prince and guard. Here, they’re Merriel and Eugene, the weight of their duties left forgotten at the edge of their clearing. 

“How long do we have before we have to head back?” 

“A few hours. We have time, Merry.”

Eugene shifts, turning onto his side, eyes roving over Merriel’s profile, the delicate slope of his nose, a jawline sharp enough to cut contrasted by the soft roundness of his cheeks. Merriel looks back from the corner of his eye, lips curving up. 

“Wat’cha lookin at?” he asks, dropping formalities for the natural twang of his accent, flashing white teeth. He’s at his most feline, tumbling back to his belly to stretch, head tilting toward Eugene, mouth curved into that cat-grin of his that never fails to drive Eugene insane. 

“You”, Eugene responds truthfully, shifting closer to touch his cold nose to Merriel’s shoulder, lips brushing against sun-warmed skin. He feels the shiver that runs along Merriel’s body, eyelids drooping heavily, lips parting. 

Mischief flashes across Merriel’s face and Eugene has a moment to feel confused before he’s being tackled, rolling round and round across the little meadow until they come to a stop with Eugene on his back and Merriel on top of him, face flushed with laughter, chest heaving. He feels a blush warm his face, bright red against his fair skin and Merriel must see it because he just laughs harder, white teeth flashing again. 

“Gene, you're as red as your hair!” he teases, but he soothes the sting of it with a kiss, leaning down to press their mouths together- hesitant still, which is how Eugene knows that Merriel’s still nervous about their relationship. It’s funny, he thinks, how he’d always thought that if anyone would be nervous, it would be  _ him _ , not prickly, sharp, sometimes downright arrogant Merriel Shelton. 

Well. It gives him the upper hand at times. 

Like now, when he pushes him back and Merriel goes without complaint, confusion quickly replaced with surprised when he’s flipped around, eyes round when he finds himself pinned under Eugene. He recovers quickly though, a challenging smile baring his canines, daring Eugene to continue. 

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Gene”, he purrs, and that’s all it takes for Eugene to kiss the smug smirk off his face, hands pressing into bony wrists, thighs squeezing around a slender waist unter they’re both breathless, Merriel’s chest rising and falling with every gasp. Eugene’s still holding on too tight, knows he’s going to leave a ring of bruises around Merriel’s wrists, but. 

There’s something desperate fluttering in his rib cage, his heart an anxious bird just waiting to be broken, and it’s why he tries to keep his distance, to freeze  _ him  _ out even if it’s futile and he needs this moment to last for a few more eternities, just him and Merriel and their only witness the pale eyes of the sky and maybe he’ll be okay with letting him go one day, maybe he’ll be okay when his prince no longer wants him and he can’t hold him like this anymore, maybe-

“Gene.” 

Merriel’s voice is soft again. He tugs one of his hands free of Eugene’s grip and uses it to cup his cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping across his skin to catch a stray tear. 

“Sorry I- I don’t know what’s gotten into me”, Eugene mutters, leaning into the gentle touch. He shouldn’t indulge so much, but Merriel makes it hard not to. 

Merriel doesn’t say anything to that, but pulls him back down for a third kiss, one more tempered than the last, but Eugene tastes underlying heat, and Eugene knows that Merriel feels the same desperation he does. When they part, Eugene rests his forehead on Merriel’s, their breath one and the same and for a moment, they can meld into one being, MerrielAndEugene, before they part and become themselves again. 

They sit up, but don’t go very far from each other. Eugene has one of Merriel’s hands in both of his, connecting the freckles on the back with the tip of his finger. Without much thought, he brings it to his mouth to kiss, and at Merriel’s curious look, he smiles. 

“My prince”, he says a little more playfully, moving so he’s on one knee. 

Merriel mirrors him, taking his hand to kiss. 

“My Eugene”, he says, like Eugene is somehow a higher title than prince, more precious, more important. Eugene’s smile drops. This feels like a dream, and it might be worse because it’s not. 

It’s definitely better because it’s not. 

Even as the sun begins to slip across the sky, painting the clouds orange, he hopes the hours don’t go with it. For once, he’s content to be nobody, and from the way Merriel holds tightly to his hand, he knows he is too. 


End file.
